When In Rome
by BlueNeutrino
Summary: Two centurions, a prefect, the girl who waited and a madman with a blue box. You can meet all sorts of people when in Rome. Crossover with Simon Scarrow's Cato and Macro books. You don't have to have read them, but it helps.
1. Shop For Togas

_**When In Rome**_

**Summary: Two centurions, a prefect, the girl who waited and a madman with a blue box. You can meet all sorts of people when in Rome. Crossover with Simon Scarrow's Cato and Macro books. You don't have to have read them, but it helps.**

**A/N: I've just finished reading **_**Praetorian **_**by Simon Scarrow and though it was about time I wrote some fanfiction about Cato and Macro, since I've now read eleven books about them and the number of **_**Eagle**_** series fanfics on the internet seems to have a grand total of zero. They deserve a bit more love than that. Also, since I'm paying a visit to Doctor Who-land (otherwise known as Wales) I'm making it a crossover. This is set about a week after Sinius and Geta are killed, and therefore just a couple of days after the final scene of **_**Praetorian, **_**and during early season six of DW.**

**Disclaimer: The BBC own the TARDIS crew, while Simon Scarrow owns the two Romans who seem to know an impossible number of historically famous people.**

_**When In Rome… Shop For Togas**_

The Forum was bustling; a hubbub of noise and activity as shoppers and traders mingled together in the densely packed square in front of the Imperial Palace. A cloudless sky was allowing the sun to shine down brightly on the people below, but a light breeze served to regulate the air temperature and stir up a cacophony of smells from the various market stalls where people hustled to buy goods. Among the throng, two figures were making their way through the rows of stalls in the direction of the Quirinal Hill. One of them was a short, stocky man with a scarred and weathered face that spoke of many years of hardships endured in the less comfortable provinces of the Empire, while the other was a tall youth with curly dark hair and a face that was handsome despite being marred by a savage scar that cut a line from his brow down over his left cheek. Their scars and the military cloaks that they both wore betrayed their status as legionaries – and veterans of many campaigns at that.

The men were Centurion Lucius Cornelius Macro and Prefect Quintus Licinius Cato, formerly of the Second Legion and soon to rejoin that legion in Britannia after a short stay in Rome.

The older, shorter one, Macro, turned to his friend as they made their way through the crowd. "Look at this place. Hard to believe the state it was in just a week ago, with half the stalls shut down and the Urban Cohorts patrolling for rioters on the corner. Now it's as if there was never any trouble at all, and I suspect Pallas is taking all the credit for it. Never mind that it was mostly down to us."

His companion, Cato, just grunted sullenly in acknowledgement, not really in the mood to discuss how well the capital had bounced back after the chaos of the last month.

Noticing his friend's low spirits, Macro let out a sigh. "Cato, lad, Julia's said she'll wait for you while you're in Britannia. She'd even go with you, if you like, so what are you sulking for?"

Cato scowled miserably, not at all cheered up by Macro's words. "Because I don't _want _to make her wait, Macro. It isn't fair to make her go another year without me being around, but nor is it fair to take her with me. Not to some cold, wet and dangerous barbarian-filled province on the edges of the Empire."

Macro just shrugged, displaying a lack of sensitivity that Cato had gotten used to over the years, but which did nothing to make him feel better. "Life isn't fair, lad. You can't have it both ways, not unless you decide to stay with her in Rome. Which, if you want to stay alive long enough to marry her, I'd advise against."

Cato nodded despairingly. "I know," he said, all too aware of how many enemies they'd made in the capital already during their brief stint working as spies for the Imperial secretary, Narcissus. In truth, Cato did desperately want to get away from all the sinister games of politics and back to some proper soldiering in the legions, but that didn't mean he was happy about leaving his fiancée, Julia, behind. "I was thinking I should do something to make it up to her though, if I'm about to go and leave her on her own again. I should at least buy her a parting gift."

Macro rolled his eyes. "Cato, lad, you really can be a sentimental poof at times."

Cato shot him a glare. "Maybe _you _wouldn't appreciate it, Macro, but I'm sure she would," he said defensively. "There's plenty of jewellers stalls here and I'm going to buy her something."

Macro sighed. "Alright, you do that if it'll stop you being in such a foul mood for the next few days. I'm going to go buy some new gear for when we head back to Britannia, and maybe I'll get us some good wine for the journey. Seems a shame to waste that money our good friend Sinius left us." At that final part he gave a smirk, thinking of the hefty sum in silver he and Cato had illegally acquired from one of the men they caught conspiring against the Emperor just a couple of weeks earlier.

At the mention of the money Cato bristled. He had been the one who initially insisted on telling Narcissus about the stolen silver Sinius was harbouring, but Macro had talked him out of it. Given the way Narcissus had manipulated the pair of them, Cato still felt that the decision was justified. "Alright. Why don't we meet at the Temple of Minerva in about an hour?" he suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Macro agreed, before adding, "And try not to have such a sour look on your face next time I see you."

In response, Cato just mumbled a rather half-hearted "Fuck off," as they parted ways.

-oOo-

On the far side of the Forum opposite the Imperial Palace, three other figures had just emerged from one of the alleys coming from the Subura. One of them was dressed in the off-duty garb of a Roman centurion, another was a redheaded woman wearing a pale blue dress and sandals that could just about pass as Roman, and a third was a man dressed in – most peculiarly for this time – a tweed jacket and bow tie.

As they emerged into the square the redhead squealed, a look of delight plastered on her face. "This is brilliant! I'm going to get to go shopping in a real-life ancient Roman market," she gushed, before turning to the others. "Do you think they'll have a toga stall? I want to buy one."

"You'll want a stola," the man in the bow tie corrected, "That's what girls wear, but we had some of those on the TARDIS. You could have worn one if you wanted."

"Oh, stola then," Amy replied offhandedly, "But still, wearing a TARDIS one isn't the same as buying my own."

The centurion shook his head affectionately. "What is it with girls and shopping?"

Amy turned to him and grinned. "See, Rory, you've got your own authentic Roman uniform, which looks fantastic on you, and I thought it would be great we could be a matching couple. So when you're being a Roman centurion, I could wear something genuinely Roman to go with it, and we could be like a proper Roman lady and her husband. What do you think?"

As Rory looked at his wife his face broke into a grin. "I think you'd look wonderful in a stola."

Amy smiled back and then leant in to give him a quick kiss. "Great, then let's go find one." She'd taken his hand and was about to head off into the market, but their other companion interrupted.

"Hold on, Amy, we don't have any money yet," he said. "Rory and I should go and find a banker. I think with a military uniform and my psychic paper we should be able to get a few denarii from somewhere." Amy looked momentarily disappointed by the delay, but then he continued, "You go browse for your Roman dress. Pick whichever one you like, and we'll come and find you in a bit. Just whatever you do, don't leave the Forum."

"I won't, Doctor," Amy said, before turning to Rory with a teasing grin. "I'm going to pick out a really expensive one, just so you know. Something really dazzling."

"You don't need to a Roman dress to be dazzling," Rory replied, prompting the Doctor to roll his eyes and mutter, "Will the pair of you stop being so… smushy."

Amy just laughed. "Alright, I'll see you two boys later," she said, and they called out goodbyes back as she disappeared into the crowd.


	2. Bump Into Interesting People

_**When In Rome… Bump Into Interesting People…. Literally**_

Once among the crowd of shoppers Amy realised it was much harder to navigate the market than she'd anticipated. The place was so overwhelming with all its sights, sounds and smells that she didn't even know where to begin looking. She also realised that with so many other people around this would surely be a prime location for pickpockets, and she became immensely grateful that she currently had no pockets to pick.

Amy weaved her way in and out of the many people surrounding her in search of a stall that might catch her eye, but shortly found herself standing in the way of an oncoming entourage of slaves accompanying their master. Not wanting to annoy someone powerful enough to own slaves, she tried to shuffle out of their way to let them pass unhindered, but as she did so her calves hit what must have been baskets of stock on the floor behind her and she stumbled, falling backwards and feeling herself land on someone standing by the nearby stall.

He staggered under the impact of her landing on him but remained on his feet, and Amy felt herself blush furiously as she tried to regain her balance. "I'm so sorry," she muttered as she tried to correct herself, looking downwards and hoping she hadn't just crossed someone who might be prone to getting particularly angry. Instead of the harsh rebuke she'd feared, she felt hands on her shoulders helping her stand upright again and heard a kind voice speaking.

"Don't worry about it. Are you alright?"

Relieved she hadn't just almost knocked over some mean slave master or the sort, Amy relaxed and let out a breath. "Yes, thank you. I just tripped…" she began to reply, but as she looked up at his face her surprise caused that sentence to trail off. The man was young – no older than twenty-five – and definitely good looking by Amy's standards, but there was a vicious line of scar tissue cutting its way across his face that her attention couldn't help but be drawn to. Quickly trying to take in the rest of his appearance, she noticed that the top of his right ear was a mess of red scabs and raw skin, as if the tip had been recently sliced off, and on his throat there was an array of yellowish blotches suggesting bruises that were in the process of healing.

Amy gasped. "You have been in the wars, haven't you?" she muttered without thinking, and then realising that his attire was that of a soldier like Rory, she cleared her throat and said more purposefully, "I mean, you uh… you _have _been in the wars, haven't you?"

He was quite a lot taller than she was and looked down at her in bemusement for a couple of seconds, then a small ironic smile formed on his lips. "Not any wars, no. Not recently," he replied, "Just the food riots last month."

That took Amy by surprise. "There were food riots?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He looked puzzled by her surprise. "Yes, the crisis in Egypt meant there was a severe grain shortage in Rome. Weren't you here for that?"

She shook her head. "No, I've only just arrived in the city today, actually. I'm a bit out of the loop as to what's going on."

"You've arrived at the best time then," he responded. "There was nothing but trouble these past few weeks. You're lucky you missed it."

Amy found herself growing relieved that the TARDIS hadn't parked them here just a few days earlier. "Well, I'm glad it's over," she commented, before glancing over at the stall they were standing beside. She was a little surprised to see he'd been browsing jewellery. "Bit of a girly thing for a man like you to be buying, isn't it?" she said, again without thinking.

As he realised she'd noticed what he'd been looking out, he glanced away and blushed ever so slightly. "Oh, that. I'm looking for a gift for my fiancée, actually," he explained.

_That is actually really sweet, _Amy thought, and couldn't help but find his awkwardness quite cute. "I'm sure she'll love it," she responded enthusiastically, "I know I loved it when my fiancé bought me jewellery. Well, he's my husband now, but if he bought me one of these I'd be pleased." Smiling, she gestured at the array of pendants and necklaces on the stall, but she was disappointed to see that a rather dour frown had settled on his face.

"I hope so, but I don't know what to buy," he said uncertainly, but then brightened up a little as an idea seemed to occur to him. "Would you help me pick? You have a better idea of what women like than I do."

A little taken aback but flattered all the same, Amy smiled. Of all the people she could have accidentally fallen on top of, she was glad it was someone like him. "Of course," she replied, before realising they hadn't even been introduced yet. "I'm Amelia by the way," she said, deciding to use her more Latin-esque full name, "Just call me Amy."

He smiled at her again, more warmly this time. "Cato. Well, Prefect Cato actually, but let's not bother with that."

Amy had little knowledge of how the Roman army worked, but from her talks with Rory she knew that a Prefect was high ranking. Again, she was somewhat surprised. He seemed young to have been promoted so highly.

"Alright, Cato," she said, gesturing at the jewellery on display. "What do you like the look of so far?"

He pointed to a gold rectangular pendant with a badly done bass relief of Neptune on the front. It was rather ugly. "What do you think of that one?"

Amy sighed and shook her head. "I don't think so," she said as gently as possible, before turning to some of the gemstone bracelets on the table and picking one up. "It depends what kind of things she likes," she said as she held it up to him. "How does she feel about opals?"

He studied the bracelet for a moment and then bit his lip. "I'm not sure."

Patiently, Amy set the bracelet back down again and looked back up at him. "Okay, then what _does_ she like?"

Cato looked thoughtful for a moment, and then with a pained expression admitted, "I don't know. I mean, what's the right kind of present to say 'I'm sorry I left you on your own for a year, but even though I'm sorry and I don't want to do it again I'm going to anyway'."

Following that, Amy thought she was beginning to understand the reasons for the sad look in his eyes. She wasn't sure exactly what must have happened, but she was beginning to get the sense that she wasn't speaking to just a normal Roman soldier looking for a normal gift. "Well, do you have a choice to stay with her?" she asked, trying to be sensitive.

He shook his head. "Not really. It's sort of a life or death situation."

What that could be Amy didn't know, but her curiosity was piqued. She was aware that the Roman Empire could be a dangerous place, but there seemed to be something particularly unusual about this situation. Still, she was trying not to pry. "Then I'm sure she'll forgive you, if she knows you don't have a choice," she said, hoping to reassure him.

He sighed. "I know, but I'm worried that maybe I'm not buying this to say sorry for leaving, but to try and stop her finding someone else while I'm gone."

The conflict and worry he felt was evident on his face, and Amy had a sudden moment of understanding exactly what he meant. "She won't," she said suddenly, in a tone of such certainty that it caused him to look at her in surprise. Amy herself was a little taken aback, but his words had triggered her to suddenly realise something about herself and Rory. "If she loves you, she won't find anybody else. She'll wait."

"But what if…" he began to say, but Amy firmly cut him off before he chance to talk himself into feeling worse.

"Trust me. She'll wait."

He looked like he might be about to speak again, but there must have been something in her expression that caused him to pause and consider it. However, his troubled look showed he was still far from reassured.

"Put it this way," Amy said, wanting to make him feel better, "If it was the other way round, would you wait for her?"

"Of course," he answered immediately.

"Would you wait two thousand years for her?"

He seemed a little perplexed by her specific choice of number, but answered anyway. "Yes."

"Then if she loves you, she'll do the same," Amy said with a reassuring smile. "How about you don't get her a gift to say sorry for leaving, but instead as a promise that you'll come back?"

He chewed his lip as he thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I like that idea."

"Okay," Amy said, at last pleased to see a more content expression on his face. "Which still leaves us to decide what to get. So…" She picked up another pendant of a gleaming yellow orb set in gold. "What about topaz?"

He looked at it, still uncertain. "Maybe. Her favourite colour's green. Should I get her something in that?"

Amy set the pendant back down and looked back at the selection of jewellery, noticing there seemed to be more choice among the green ones than just about any other colour. "Okay, prefect boy, this could take a while…"


	3. Meet Other Centurions

_**When In Rome… Meet Other Centurions**_

Having managed to acquire some Roman currency, the Doctor and Rory were now back in the market in search of Amy. The place was crowded and she was difficult to spot, even in her questionably-Roman outfit and not-very-Roman red hair.

"Why did we let her wander off without arranging to meet up?" Rory said agitatedly, but the Doctor waved an arm to calm him down.

"Don't worry, Rory. We'll find her, just as long as she hasn't left the Forum."

The pair of them paused in their journey through the market to once again cast a glance round for Amy or a stand she might have gone to. Rory's gaze happened to fall on three men wearing off-white tunics and he watched them as they walked past.

"Praetorians," he heard a voice say off to his left, and it took him a couple of moments longer to realise someone was talking to him. "Cushy lot," the voice continued, "They get twice the pay of normal legionaries for sitting on their arses all day and doing half the work. That is, until half of them decide to rise up and try to overthrow the Emperor, which makes them worse than just being soft and lazy and just makes them traitors. The ones that aren't… well some of them aren't bad, but they're not real soldiers, mate. Not like you or I."

Rory turned to the speaker to see a tough looking man quite a bit shorter and older than himself, but wearing the same military style clothing. Rory also noticed the rather large mark of an old bruise on the man's forehead, suggesting he'd been in a fight a few days ago.

"It's good to see a fellow legionary round here," the man said in a friendly tone, obviously having recognised the uniform Rory was wearing. "Not many of them for company here in the city. The name's Macro, centurion in the Fourth Cohort of the Second Legion."

"I'm Rory…nicus," Rory introduced himself, for a moment almost using his real, very non-Roman name. Then he decided to add a cohort and a legion too for the sake of authenticity. Really, there wasn't that much he had to make up. "Centurion in the First Cohort of the Ninth Legion."

"Between postings, I take it?"

"For now. I've just arrived from Britannia," Rory answered, playing along. The invasion of Britannia was actually some years before he'd started his stint as an immortal Roman auton, but it was as close to the truth as he was going to get.

Macro nodded. "Served there myself some years ago. Due to head back soon, actually, as soon as my orders come through. How was the campaign going when you left?"

Rory shrugged and bluffed his way through the answer. "Slowly."

Macro laughed. "So I'm told, but that's the first time I've heard it from an actual legionary. Not much for me to look forward to, then?"

"Not much," Rory replied, just as the Doctor noticed that Rory had stopped searching for Amy and was now engaged in conversation. He ambled over to join the pair of centurions.

"Rory, I see you've made a friend," he commented. "He's got a big fancy cloak like you. He's a centurion too then, I take it? Oh not another one, that's just what I need."

Macro gave the Doctor a funny look, perplexed by both his mannerisms and his strange choice of clothing. Rory quickly intervened. "Uh, yes, Doctor, this is Centurion Macro. Macro, this is my friend the Doctor."

Turning to Rory with a completely baffled expression, Macro looked like he might be about to say something that wouldn't come across too politely with the Time Lord, but the Doctor spoke first.

"Ah, hello, Centurion. It's a pleasure to meet you. I don't suppose you might be able to help us out here? You see, Rory's lost his wife."

"Lost your wife?" Macro said to Rory, seeming a little unsure as to whether he should take the Doctor seriously or if he was just a rambling madman.

"Oh, yes," Rory answered in a hurry to explain, "She's somewhere in the Forum. I promised to meet up with her but we can't find her. She's about my age, thin, with red hair and dressed in blue. Have you seen her?"

Macro looked thoughtful for a moment. "I do remember seeing a red-haired girl somewhere round here earlier. Reminded me of a girl I once met in Britannia, that's why I remember it, but I couldn't tell you where she is now."

Both Rory and the Doctor looked disappointed by that news. "Thanks anyway," Rory began to say, but Macro shrugged.

"I'll help you look for her if you like," he offered. "Right now I'll consider any legionary in Rome a friend of mine. Besides, you're probably the best company I'll have all day if that lad Cato doesn't snap out of his misery any time soon. Can't say I have plans to do much else."

After responding with enthusiastic thanks, Rory and the Doctor joined him as they went in search of Amy.

-oOo-

The three Praetorians that had passed Rory earlier reached the other side of the square, where a man dressed in a similar fashion was waiting for them. He looked back in the direction the three soldiers had come from, peering along the row of stalls and his eyes narrowing as his gaze fell upon the form of Guardsman Calidus. _No, Centurion Macro, _he corrected himself, remembering that Calidus had just been the false name Macro was going by while undercover in the Praetorian Guard. The centurion appeared to be in conversation with two other men; one of them a soldier, the other… well, he didn't know what to make of the peculiar way the man was dressed. Was he a slave? An entertainer? He wasn't sure. He just knew that perhaps these would be two other men he would have to keep an eye out for. Replacements for the executed traitors in the Praetorian Guard would be due to arrive in Rome soon, and there was a chance that Narcissus might try placing further spies among them. If these two men were talking to Macro, then it was possible that they were agents working for Narcissus too.

"Centurion Tigellinus?" one of the Praetorians addressed him. "What now? Are we going for a drink?"

Tigellinus turned to the lower-ranking guardsman. "Yes, Mercurius, we will be," he answered. "Let's try the River of Wine. I believe the barman is allowing Praetorians in again now."

Mercurius nodded and a content grin settled on his face, but Tigellinus' expression still showed a disgruntled scowl. He didn't actually much care for a drink at the moment, not after sighting his enemy, but he hoped that soon he would be presented with an opportunity to enact the vengeance he was owed on Macro and Cato. Since they were the only two people who could implicate him as part of the plot to kill the Emperor, he had to consider them a threat, even if Tigellinus was under the protection of the Imperial advisor Pallas, but he would prefer it if that threat were removed. The pair of legionaries-come-spies were due to leave Rome soon, but they weren't gone yet and while they were still here Tigellinus thought he ought to make the most of the opportunity to ensure they never left alive at all. It was the only way to guarantee his safety.

"Sir?" one of the Praetorians said, noticing his centurion's distracted look, but Tigellinus just brushed him off.

"Yes, I know. I'm coming," he said before turning to join the other soldiers, all the while thinking hard about how to deal with this dangerous situation and get rid of his enemies for good.

**A/N: This will be continued, but I'm not completely sure where I'm going with it so I'll take a break there for now. It needs a bit more time for me to figure out exactly what happens next. I won't make the fic too long, but I thought it would be fun to write a few chapters about the TARDIS trio teaming up with Macro and Cato for a while, so watch this space.**

**Also, for those who haven't read the books, the redhead girl Macro met in Britannia happened to be Boudica :)**

**Historical note: The writers of Doctor Who messed up quite a lot when they had River pretend to be Cleopatra in Roman occupied Britain. Sure, it was quite funny, but when Julius Caesar attempted to invade Britain in 55 and 54 BC Cleopatra was fourteen years old, and when the Roman conquest of Britain actually happened in 43 AD she was long dead, so you may have to take Rory's personal timeline in this with a pinch of salt.  
**


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